Watch Me Catch a Falling Star
by Penelope Cross
Summary: "Why would you think that?  If it's an animal or whatever you said why would it just want us?"  Brittany says.  Something bangs so hard into the back of the car it's forced forward, even though it's in park.  "Because it's right behind us," Santana yells.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own these characters or Glee or blahblahblah.  
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**AN: **I started writing this when I was bored. It wasn't intended to be anything but of course, me being me, it turns into something.

I hope you like it.

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><p>"Quick," Brittany says. She's flat out running towards her car. The air is cool and calm which is the complete opposite of what Brittany is feeling. The entire world seems to be still, though, waiting in anticipation to see what happens next. Waiting to see if they make it to the car or not. Brittany can't tell if she's just projecting or if this is really how the world is. When she sees the same look of terror on Santana's face that she feels, she thinks maybe that really is how the air feels tonight.<p>

Brittany wrenches open her car door and jumps into the drivers seat. She's buckling her seat belt when Santana is sliding into the passenger seat. Brittany doesn't wait for her to buckle before turning on the car and shifting quickly into drive, pealing down her suburban street, trying to ignore the dark figure waiting behind her.

/

Brittany yawns loudly and shakes her head. She's been driving for so long that she can't even remember how long it's actually been. "Santana," she says, stifling another yawn. "C'mon, San, wake up," she says louder, reaching over to gently nudge Santana.

Santana jerks awake, gasping loudly. She looks around quickly and Brittany watches as her face changes from horror to the realization that she's safe. "What's the matter?" She's pushing herself up straighter in the seat. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just tired," Brittany says, stifling another yawn. "And we're almost out of gas."

Santana frowns and leans over slightly to look at the orange arrow getting dangerously close to the 'E'. "Okay, pull off at the next exit," she says and sets her hand gently on Brittany's shoulder. "Or you can pull over now and let me drive."

"I'll be fine until the next exit," Brittany says, shaking her head slightly. Her eyelids feel so, so heavy, though. It'd be so easy to just shut them, even if it's for like half a second. She could manage that, right? She could just shut her eyes for like one second and then open them up so quickly...

"Britt, fuck!" Santana yells from the passenger seat.

Brittany's eyes snap open and she rights the car just before crashing into the wall splitting the the northbound lanes from the southbound ones. Brittany slows her speed and can barely breath over her heart pounding in her chest. She's never had a scare like that before while driving.

"Pull over," Santana says, voice firm.

Brittany feels wide awake now, fear and adrenalin pumping through her quickly. "San," she says, trying to explain she's actually okay now.

"Brittany pull the fuck over," Santana snaps, raising her voice.

Brittany jumps at the tone and flicks on her signal, slowing the car down, down, down.

/

"I didn't mean to yell," Santana says in a small voice when the car stops and Brittany turns off her blinker and parks the vehicle.

"It's okay," Brittany says looking down at her lap. "It's been a really like...hard night."

"I'm still sorry, I just..." Santana stops.

Brittany doesn't press her to continue. She knows exactly how she's feeling. She has no idea what happened either. She has no idea what's going on or why the rest of the world seems to be going on normally, like nothing had happened.

But, what had happened?

"What was that?" Santana asks, her voice small again. She turns to look at Brittany.

Brittany shakes her head, eyes wide. She really doesn't know. She's trying to make sense of anything, but it just isn't coming to her. It just seems to puddle in her brain, the events from the evening.

"I mean, did you see the way it moved?" Santana asks.

Brittany doesn't respond. Her skin crawls as she remembers the way it crawled towards her on all fours, like some type of animal. The way it smelled acrid and horrifying and almost made her freeze in place. The way it was moving towards them so lightning fast but looked too big to be moving that way. It was all sort of...

Supernatural.

"Maybe it was just like...some animal or..." Santana says slowly. Brittany knows she's trying to make sense of everything. She knows she's trying to logic it out. "Fuck, I don't know, Britt."

"And we just left," Brittany says, voice flat. "We just left it there where it could get anyone." She turns to look at Santana and feels the anger floating low in her stomach, waiting for a chance to spark into bigger flames. "What if it hurts someone?"

"Britt," Santana says. Her face looks scared, so unsure. "I don't think...I just..." She stops and turns to look behind her, down the dark highway full of nothing but empty black. "I think it's following us. I think it just wants us."

"Why would you think that? If it's an animal or whatever you said, why would it just want us?" Brittany can feel the anger begin to boil. She can feel her cheeks flushing and that odd tingling feeling- like the beginning of sweating- she feels behind her ears when she gets angry.

Something bangs so hard into the back of the car it's forced forward, even though it's in park.

"It's right fucking behind us," Santana cries out.

/

Brittany screams and slams her foot on the brake, shifting the car into drive and then slamming her foot on the gas. "Fuck, fuck," she yells as the car moves forward, but it's too slow. She can feel the thing- whatever the fuck it is- clinging to her car. She pushes the gas pedal all the way down to the floor. Her car sounds like it's about to explode underneath her with all of the effort of accelerating.

"Shit, shit, shit," Santana is saying in the passenger seat. She's turned almost completely around, watching the thing hanging onto the back of the car. "Britt, it's not letting go!"

Brittany glances into her rear view mirror to try and see the monster-thing. It's the scariest thing Brittany has ever seen in her entire life. It makes her skin crawl, the way it's head tilts so far to the side, the way it's mouth opens so, so wide. It reminds her of snakes, when they unhinge their jaws to begin to devour their prey. She opens her mouth to scream from the pure terror of it all, but the creature beats her to it.

It screams. A high pitched scream that makes Brittany's ears ring, she tightens her grip on the steering wheel. The creature busts one long arm through the back windshield which shatters. It moves it's long arm wildly and shattered glass flies through the back seat. It's scream echoes louder in the car. Brittany swerves, unintentionally, caught off guard.

She looks to the passenger seat. Santana is slumped in her seat, body shaking. Her eyes are wider than Brittany has ever seen and for a moment she's afraid they're going to pop right out of her head. She opens her mouth to ask what's wrong but the creature screams again. The sound seems to rip through the air, rip through Brittany's head. She swerves again. The creature hanging off of the back of her car is making it impossible for her to concentrate on driving.

Then Brittany hears the worse sound yet- crunching metal. She looks into her rear view mirror and sees the creature sinking it's claws into her car, crawling closer, closer towards them.

"Buckle," Brittany screams.

The noises of the wind whipping through the busted window, the otherworldly sound of the creature screaming, the noises of her car accelerating faster and faster underneath her are swirling around in the car. Brittany can barely hear anything but she sees Santana's mouth move and then watches as she pulls her body around and buckles herself in.

"Hang on," Brittany yells. She checks all of her mirrors but knows that they are the only car on the road, they hadn't seen another car for a long time. She hears the creature hissing as it pulls itself farther up the car.

Brittany merges into the right lane and slams on the brakes. Santana screams, the creature screams. The car screeches to a stop that jolts Brittany's body forward, the seat belt locks in place and catches her pinning her to her chair. She watches in her mirror as the creature- caught off guard- is slammed forward into the shattered back window and makes a hissing noise as it slides off of Brittany's car.

Santana sighs in relief but Brittany switches the car into reverse, waiting.

"Britt," Santana says softly.

"Wait," Brittany replies. She watches her rear view mirror.

She sees the creatures arm lift up and sink into the metal of the car again. Brittany screams as it pulls itself up, head tilted so far to the left it makes Brittany's stomach churn. She slams her foot on the gas and the car begins to back up, building speed. The creature hangs on and manages to pull itself up a little further.

Brittany narrows her eyes and hopes she isn't about to get Santana and herself killed. She cuts the wheel to the left and the car turns hard. It cuts across the other two lanes on the interstate and slams into the safety wall in the middle of the highway.

There's a horrible crunching noise and Brittany continues to slam her foot on the gas, pushing the creature harder into the wall. She watches it in her rear view mirror. The way it's mouth has opened so wide, the way it's trying in vain to push against the car makes Brittany feel like she's really hurting it. She can't stop herself, she pushes harder on the gas, wanting it to hurt. She hears screaming, loud screaming that doesn't stop until Santana is shaking her.

"Brittany, stop, Britt, it's okay, please baby, stop," Santana is saying. Her voice is wavering and her body is still shaking.

Brittany stops and switches the car into drive. She pulls the car into the center lane and sits, watching the creature in her rear view mirror.

It's slumped on the ground beside some debris. Brittany immediately recognizes her back bumper and frowns. They sit in silence, Brittany's foot planted firmly on the brake.

"Is it dead?" Santana asks.

Brittany doesn't take her eyes off the of the thing. It's lying still and looks dead but something inside of her is telling her it isn't. Something inside of her is telling her this is only the beginning.

"Brittany, are you okay?" Santana says. Her voice sounds so small, so scared.

"Are you?" Brittany replies, taking her eyes off of the creature in her mirror for half a second to glance at Santana. She's still shaking, she's sweating lightly, her hair is all over the place.

Santana nods and looks over the shoulder of her seat, back at the creature. Brittany's eyes dart to her mirror. She hasn't been able to make herself turn around and look at it. The mirror isn't really it, but if she looks at it directly...

Brittany sees movement in the mirror, the creature twitches slightly. She panics and slams down on the gas driving as far away from the monster as quickly as she can.

/

Brittany refuses to stop even when Santana brings up how she almost killed them earlier. Brittany doesn't care, she can tell Santana is in no way capable of driving. They've been driving for forty-five minutes and Santana still hasn't stopped shaking. She's just lying on her side in the passenger seat, watching Brittany closely.

Any other time Brittany thinks that might make her nervous, but now it's really just nice to have someone looking out for her, making sure she stays awake and keeps them safe. She has to keep them safe.

When the arrow sinks lower on the gauge and the little orange light begins to flash, Brittany knows she has to stop for gas. They only have to drive for a few minutes before they find an exit that has a gas station. Brittany pulls up and parks the car. She looks at the clock on her dashboard, it's almost two in the morning.

"Are you hungry?" Santana asks.

Brittany unbuckles herself and shakes her head. The idea of food makes her stomach churn. She can't get the noises that thing made out of her head; the way it screamed and hissed. She looks at Santana. She's still slouched sideways in her seat. The shaking has stopped, but she's shivering, like she's just a little bit cold.

"Are you?" Brittany asks.

Santana shakes her head, not even bothering to lift it off of the seat. Brittany frowns slightly. "I'm gonna get gas and then we'll..." She trails off, not knowing what to say because she has no idea what they're going to do or where they're going to go. "San," she says and can hear the small quaver in her voice.

Santana clears her throat. "I saw a sign for a motel when we were pulling off." She bites at her lip, never breaking eye contact with Brittany. "We could go stay there or we could go home..."

Brittany isn't sure what to say. She just _doesn't know_ anything. No one ever told her what to do if you're under attack from some crazy monster. "I'll go get gas," she says getting out of the car.

/

She pushes open the door to the Marathon. It's really bright inside and the dinging sound that echoes through the store when she enters makes Brittany's head ache. She hadn't even noticed she had a headache or how she's tired, really tired. She's also really hungry even though she told Santana she isn't; she still doesn't want to eat, though. Her entire body is aching and she isn't sure why, she thinks it's maybe from all of the adrenalin and the fear and how hard she had gripped the steering wheel.

She moves through the small aisles in the gas station. She can feel the cashiers gaze on her whenever she turns her back. It makes her feel uneasy and like he's part of some conspiracy against her. She shakes her head, trying to dislodge the thought. She just needs some rest.

No, she needs to figure out what the hell she and Santana are supposed to do.

Instinctively, she looks out the big glass windows that cover the front of the store. Santana is sitting in the car, still in the same position. Her eyes are closed. Brittany finds a small section on one of the shelves dedicated solely to headache pills. She grabs a box of Advil and a small first aid kit. In another aisle she pulls two bags of Chex Mix off of their hooks. At the coolers in the back of the store she grabs two bottles of water.

The cashier cocks an eyebrow at her when she places everything on the counter haphazardly.

"Will this be all?" He asks, smiling at her.

She isn't in the mood to return the smile. She looks down at everything and then glances back at the coolers. "Gimme a sec," she says. She moves to the back of the store, looking for the bottles she had passed earlier. She finds the bottle of Starbucks iced coffee she's looking for and grabs one that's vanilla flavored before heading back to the counter. She feels like she'll need it to keep herself awake, she has no intention of sleeping any time soon.

"Will...this be all?" The cashier asks again, voice slow.

"Yes," says Brittany, nodding and pulling out her debit card. "Oh and twenty five on pump five."

/

Brittany opens the car door as quietly as she can and places the bag of purchases into the floorboard of Santana's side of the car. She leaves the door open and locks the pump into her car, letting it run until it cuts itself off. She looks around, the road is empty, the night is cool. She stands for a moment watching the empty road and wondering how everything can still appear to be so normal.

She moves to the back of her car to asses the damage. She frowns at the fact that her back bumper is really missing. She looks hard at the holes in the hood of the trunk, they're deep and look angry. She reaches her hand out slowly and touches at the bent and curled metal. Almost all of the glass is missing from her rear windshield.

When the gas pump clicks Brittany moves back to the side of her car, hooking the pump back into place before screwing the gas cap back on. She slides easily into the drivers seat and starts the car. It hums to life underneath her and Brittany feels relieved that it's still working, especially after having seen the damage the creature had done.

She pulls out of the gas station and follows the signs leading her towards a place to stay for the night. She can't think of anything else to do. She's exhausted- beyond exhausted at this point. She needs to sleep, needs to rest and eat something. She knows Santana is in the same boat, just as exhausted and weak from the nights events.

/

Quality Quarters Inn looks like a complete dive. Brittany scrunches her face at the way the front of the building looks but the sign says that it only costs thirty dollars a night and considering how much money Brittany doesn't have it seems like the perfect place to stay for just one night.

"San," she says, parking the car in an empty spot near the entrance. "Sanny, wake up," Brittany whispers. She tucks some of Santana's lose hair behind her ear and strokes her thumb across her cheek.

Santana stirs, her eyes flutter open and she seems to want to stretch but sighs instead and sinks further into the chair. "Where're we?" She croaks sleepily.

Brittany smiles warmly down at her. "We're at a place to stay for the night. I'm gonna go get a room, okay?"

"No," Santana says, pulling herself to sit up.

Brittany watches her closely, the way her muscles strain and her body seems to weigh so much. She's never seen Santana have to struggle so hard to do such little physical activity and it immediately sends up a warning flag. "What's the matter?" She asks, frowning and watching Santana sigh heavily when she finally gets herself righted.

"Nothing, Britt," Santana says and her voice is hoarse, like she's been sick for days. "I'm just really tired."

"Santana," Brittany says and she feels like she should be doing something to take care of her, like feel her forehead to see if she has a fever.

"I'm gonna get the room, okay? Since you got the gas and everything." She pushes open the passenger door and uses it to pull herself up, something else Brittany has never seen her do before. She takes a few unsteady steps away from the car before stopping and turning to look at Brittany.

"You're coming right?" Her face looks as lost as Brittany feels.

She grabs the plastic bag from the passenger floorboard, locks her car and catches up to Santana. She finds Santana's hand and slips their fingers together, holding on tightly.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Hey there, readers. Just wanted to say that I have no idea what's happening in this story. I have no notes or plotlines. I have a vague idea of what's going to happen and that's it. I have no idea what other characters might appear in this story or might not. I am just writing it.

I kinda hate anything else I work on right now and all of my other stories, so I'm just going to focus on this because it's fun.

* * *

><p>One Week Ago<p>

_Brittany knows she's usually the more whimsical one. She's usually the one that leads the adventures or says things like, "Let's just spend the night looking at the stars."_

_Tonight she isn't, though. Tonight Santana's the one that whispers those words into her ear and takes her by the hand, leading her to Brittany's backyard._

"_Here," Santana says, spreading one of Brittany's quilts out onto the grass and lying down on it, stretching. Santana is always stretching. She stretches before she gets up, as soon as she lies down, when she shifts positions, when she feels tired or if she's just bored. Brittany smiles and exhales a soft laugh as she settles down next to her._

_They lie on their backs and stare at the darkening night sky. It isn't quite night time but the sun is almost completely gone now. They stay silent and watch the way the colors change. The light blue has almost completely disappeared and the horizon line is a mixture of pinks and oranges that Brittany can only label as sunset. She watches the way the rest of the sky seems to darken, like magic, right before her eyes. She looks closely as stars begin to appear, as if they're winking into existence or just woke up from a nap._

_Santana squeezes Brittany's hand._

_Brittany squeezes back._

_They forgo watching the colors change from sunset to nighttime and instead kiss each other. It's slow, their lips slide together easily. Brittany feels like she's a professional kisser, she's kissed so many people, but she's also a professional at kissing Santana. She knows her mouth better than the back of her own hand, she can map out the most sensitive contours with her tongue and knows exactly where to suck, adjust, move her hands and pull apart so they can both breath before their lips meet again. It's a practiced rhythm, one they easily fall into, one they both love, one they both need._

"_Britt," Santana says, pulling back for air._

"_Mm?" Brittany mumbles, inhaling. She licks her lips and forces her eyes up to Santana's._

"_I love you," she whispers._

_Brittany smiles. She always smiles when Santana says that she loves her. It's the nicest thing in the world to hear, especially because she loves Santana back so, so much. "I-," she begins to tell her back, but the ground shakes hard and a loud crash comes from somewhere down the lawn, towards the trees in the back of the Pierce's yard._

"_What the fuck?" Santana swears, sitting up quickly._

_Brittany is already on her feet. She feels nervous. The noise and the shaking have stopped almost as quickly as they had appeared. "Was that an earthquake?" She asks, looking down at Santana and offering her both of her hands._

"_I don't think so," Santana says, pulling herself to her feet and stretching her body out. They stand in silence for a moment, watching the spot in the darkness where the noise of the crash came from. "Let's go look."_

"_San, no," Brittany whines, grabbing her hand and stopping her from moving forward._

"_Why not?" Santana turns to look at her, head cocked to the side. "Aren't you the one that's always up for adventures?"_

_Brittany _is_ usually the one who wants to go on adventures but something inside of her feels uneasy or even...afraid. She can't quite place why or where the feeling is coming from but she doesn't want to see what made that noise. She actually just wants to grab the quilt and pull Santana inside where she feels safe._

"_Well, I'm gonna go look," Santana says, turning away from Brittany and walking towards the dark._

"_San wait," Brittany calls and follows after her._

_/_

_The thing that made the crashing noise and the earth shake around them turns out to be a rock. It's steaming slightly and looks like it's an egg in a nest, to Brittany. The dirt pushed up around it on impact looks like it's cradling it. It's about the size of a football and gray with tiny, little specks of silver that dance in the light from Brittany's phone. (No one thought to get a flash light.)_

"_So, wait," Santana says, kneeling next to the rock. "This is like...a falling star, B."_

"_Is it?" Brittany asks, tilting her head to the side and staring at the rock. Something about it makes her skin feel weird and she keeps wanting to look behind her._

"_Oh my gosh, this is so cool," Santana says moving closer to the rock._

"_Don't touch it," Brittany says, putting a firm hand on Santana's shoulder._

"_Britt, this thing is from like...space," Santana says, shrugging her shoulder._

_Brittany doesn't say anything. She watches as Santana reaches a hand out slowly, she hesitates right above the rock before placing her hand on it. Brittany jumps violently when Santana shrieks and pulls her hand back. Brittany drops to her knees beside Santana who is cradling her hand in her arms._

"_Are you okay? What happened?" Brittany asks quickly. Her heart is hammering in her chest and ringing in her ears, she puts her arms on Santana's shoulders. "San?"_

"_I'm fine, Britt. It just fucking burns. I was dumb for touching it anyway," Santana says, shaking her hand. "Can we go inside?"_

"_Of course," Brittany says, pulling her up and wrapping an arm around her waist._

_/_

Last Night

_After a ridiculously long Glee rehearsal, Brittany doesn't pull into her driveway until it's almost six o'clock. She's starving and she knows Santana is too. She can't wait for dinner because her mom seriously makes the best food ever. She can't help but feel a pang of disappointment when she sees a note and a twenty dollar bill on the refrigerator telling her that everyone decided to go out tonight and that she can call out for pizza._

_She looks at the note for a while and frowns because she really likes going out to dinner with her family. On the other hand she's got twenty dollars, permission to spend it on pizza and Santana in an empty house. She grins and can feel the mischievous excitement building inside of her._

_/_

_They decide to split a pizza, like they always do. (Santana always wants really gross things like spinach and mushrooms and Brittany always wants really awesome things like bacon and onions.) Brittany's half way through her third slice (versus Santana's two) when Santana stretches out onto her bed beside her. They fall into a comfortable silence._

_Brittany watches as Santana moves around, settling on her back. She's absentmindedly flexing her hand when Brittany puts her slice of pizza down. "What's on your hand?" Brittany asks moving to grab Santana's hand._

_She isn't quick enough, though. Santana sits up on the edge of the bed, back to Brittany. "It's nothing."_

"_It is," Brittany insists._

"_It's just where that rock burned me," Santana says._

"_I thought that faded a few days ago," Brittany says slowly. She doesn't know why but her body feels suddenly tense. Her stomach uneasy._

"_It did," Santana says and Brittany knows she's holding something back. "But it came back."_

"_It...came back," Brittany says standing up and moving around to Santana's side of the bed. She kneels down and rests her hands on Santana's jean clad legs, they had changed into street clothes shortly after getting home. No one really likes to wear the Cheerios uniform all the time._

"_It's nothing, Britt," Santana says, closing her left hand._

"_Can I see to make sure it's nothing?" Brittany asks in the sweetest voice she can muster._

_Santana smiles down at her. "Oh you," she says rolling her eyes at the pout on Brittany's face. "I promise I'm ok-"_

_An odd noise echoes inside of the house, it sounds like a hiss and a bang mixed together that got thrown against Brittany's window. Brittany is on her feet before she realizes it. She's feels her body on high alert, she knows something is wrong, she can _feel_ it. "Where are your shoes?" Brittany whispers._

"_By the front door," Santana replies in a whisper. " Why? What was that?"_

"_I'm...not sure," Brittany says slowly, moving towards her window. She turns back to Santana, frowning slightly._

_Glass shatters, Santana screams and Brittany feels the breath being knocked out of her as she hits the floor. She tries desperately to turn over, to see what's on top of her. She can feel it, feel the weight and warmth of it heavy on her. She can smell it, a horrible mixture between death and rotted food and everything bad Brittany has ever smelled. She kicks her feet out hard and rolls with as much force as she can muster. She feels blind, she can't really tell what's happening because of all the movement._

_She can however feel- whatever the fuck it is- retreat off of her. She springs to her feet and feels Santana grabbing her hand, pulling her into the hall, down the stairs. "Shoes!" Brittany yells when she realizes Santana is heading towards the front door. Santana skids to a stop, her socks sliding on the hard wood floor and Brittany catches her before she falls. When Santana has her shoes and Brittany has grabbed her car keys off the hook, she throws the front door open._

_There's a crash from behind her and she can't help but turn around._

_The thing is crawling towards them down the stairs on four legs. Brittany feels her heart seize and her eyes open wide. She's never seen anything so terrifying in her entire life. She watches as the thing moves towards them, claws working hard, head tilting to the side at a sickening angle._

_She grabs Santana's hand and runs towards the car._

_She can feel it chasing them, hear it hissing and growling._

_She can feel it's breath on her neck. _

_It's claws in her sides._

_She screams._

_/_

"Britt, Brittany, please wake up," someone is saying.

Brittany gasps loudly and her body jolts awake. She sits up fast, too fast because she bumps into someone and her head spins slightly. "Ow, what? San? Are you okay?"

"Shhh," Santana whispers. She's sitting beside Brittany on the bed they shared last night.

"What happened?" Brittany asks looking around the room. She wipes her hand across her forehead and pushes hard, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.

"You were having a bad dream," Santana says in a very soft voice.

Brittany looks at her. The skin underneath her eyes is dark, she's sitting with her shoulders slumped. Brittany reaches out a hand and places it gently on Santana's cheek. They sit in silence for a moment before Brittany lets her arm slide down to the back of her neck and pulls Santana into her. She feels like she needs to hold onto something even if it's just for a moment. If she can just hold onto Santana for a moment she'll be okay.

"I know," Santana mumbles into her neck, as Brittany's arms wrap around her chest.

Brittany pulls away gently and removes herself from the tangle of blankets. She walks around the room, finally getting a good look at it now that she doesn't feel as exhausted as she was last night. It's small with white walls and faded pink accents. Definitely a dive. "What time is it?"

"It's almost one," Santana says. She's still sitting on the bed, watching Brittany pace around the room.

"We slept for a long time," Brittany says.

"We were tired."

Silence.

Brittany peeks past the curtains of the one window in the room. There's a lot more movement in the day time than there had been last night. There are people walking in the parking lot, cars zipping past on the road. "I wonder..." She stops. She isn't really sure what she wants to say.

"I know, everyone is just acting like nothing happened."

Brittany turns to look at Santana. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Santana opens her mouth but shuts it after a few seconds. She looks down and picks at the blanket. "I don't know, Britt," she says, shaking her head. "I don't wanna go back..."

"Me neither," Brittany says.

They're both thinking the same thing.

Neither of them wants to drive back to Lima. What if it's waiting for them on the way?

/

Brittany is sitting at the small circular table that looks like someone shoved it into the corner of the motel room as an afterthought. Her bag of Chex Mix is sitting open in front of her but she can't find it in herself to eat. She's been sitting for almost an hour, staring at the wall, waiting for an answer to pop into her head or appear in front of her.

Santana has been lying on the bed, drifting in and out of sleep.

"San," Brittany says suddenly.

She watches as Santana's body jerks awake, watches the way Santana cradles her left arm close to her chest. "Yeah?" Santana pulls herself into a sitting position, throwing her legs over the bed.

"We need to figure this out," Brittany says. Her voice is firm, her face set. She's tired of waiting for something to happen. She needs to do something, anything, to make her feel like she isn't just trapped.

Santana bobs her head. "Yeah, we do," she says standing up.

Brittany narrows her eyes as Santana stretches her body and sighs in relief. When Santana turns around she shrugs at Brittany's look. "I told you I just needed sleep," she says moving towards the bathroom. "No worries, B. I'm going to take a shower because I just feel gross."

"Okay," Brittany says. She glances around the motel room. "I'll...think of what to do...next?"

Santana nods her head and waves a hand at Brittany as she disappears into the bathroom.

/

Brittany sits at the table for a little while longer, until she hears the water begin to run and the shower head to be turned on in the bathroom. She stands up and begins to pace around the small space allotted. She stops at the table and grabs the bag of Chex Mix, scooping a handful into her mouth. As soon as she begins chewing she realizes how hungry she is. She paces around the room, thinking, munching on the food until it's completely gone. She drinks half of the bottle of water she had bought for herself last night.

She switches on the lamp sitting by the bed. There's light flooding in from the small slit in the curtain but Brittany feels the need for more and she can't bring herself to open the curtains. She's afraid something might be looking back at her. She circles the room one more time.

Sighing, she bends down and opens the drawers in the dresser that sits opposite the bed. Empty. Empty. Empty. She moves to the bedside table and opens the single drawer it has. There's a Bible which Brittany gently moves aside and then a pad of stationary paper with a pen attached to it underneath. She's surprised it's even there. She pulls the stationary out.

She sits back down at the table and places the pad in front of her. She sets the headache pills and first aid kit beside it, then the bottle of water and Santana's unopened bag of chips. She looks at everything and the torn plastic bag the cashier had given to her.

She needs a better bag.

She sighs and leans back in the chair. Brittany looks at the items for a long time. She needs more, she needs a better bag, she needs to be prepared. She needs to learn how to fight. She needs a weapon.

She bites on her bottom lip as she looks at the small amount of items she has sitting in front of her. She knows there's a spare tire and a blanket in her trunk. She's lucky she leaves her debit card and license and everything in her car instead of bringing it inside every night (a trait her mother hates). They don't have clothes but at least Santana grabbed her shoes.

Brittany sits for another moment. She needs answers or someone to ask questions to. She leans forward in her chair, cradling her head in her hands. Nothing has prepared her for this moment, nothing could have.

"The goal is to survive," Brittany mumbles to the empty motel room.

She stands up and moves to the bathroom door. Brittany has never really knocked before when Santana is showering, she's never felt the need to, but she hesitates and knocks gently. She opens the door a crack and is hit by steam and the smell of shampoo. "San, I'm going to go run an errand, okay? Will you be okay?"

"I'll be fine." Santana's voice echoes through the tiled bathroom.

"I'll be right back, okay? Don't go anywhere or do anything or answer the door."

"Britt, I'll be fine," Santana says.

Brittany waits a moment. "I love you," she says quietly. She doesn't think Santana can hear her but as she shuts the door she can hear Santana say the words back.

She pauses on her way out and looks at the sliding chain lock on the inside of the door. She writes a quick note, telling Santana to make sure she locks it and leaves the pad in the middle of the bed.

/

Brittany isn't really sure what she's looking for but she, thankfully, doesn't have to drive long to find a store that looks like it might sell more than a gas station. When she walks in she grabs one of the red baskets sitting by the door and makes her way through the aisles. The store, E. W. James, feels like a smaller Wal-Mart. She's glad for the variety but she's not really sure what she needs.

She looks through the food first. The selection is overwhelming because the store is apparently a grocery store first and foremost. She decides on bread, peanut butter. She also picks up a small box of plastic knives and a packet of tissues. She adds two more bottles of water to the basket before deciding that's plenty of food for a while.

Brittany moves through the other aisles. She doesn't know why she places certain things into the basket but she doesn't really question it. She's terrified of what's to come and since neither she or Santana have their cell phones all she can do is try to be prepared. Her entire body feels like it's itching with anticipation. She doesn't _know_ what she's doing but she knows she needs to be ready for whatever it is that might happen.

She knows Santana is lying to her about something. She knows that there's no way they're going back to Lima anytime soon. She knows that thing is still out there.

She doesn't know where she is, really. She doesn't know what to do next. She doesn't know what the creature is.

She debates on putting a flashlight in the basket but she knows she has one in her car, she does however grab some batteries for it. Matches, a sewing kit, two toothbrushes and a thing of toothpaste. She stops in one aisle and stares for a really long time at the items hanging on the shelves. Pocket knives, multitools. Brittany lets her hand linger over the items before throwing a knife into the cart.

She's about to leave when something catches her attention. There are maroon bags hanging from a hook, a whole display at the end of an aisle. They have the name of the local college on them. Brittany stares at the tote bags and the messengers before seeing the last drawstring canvas bag lying forgotten on the bottom of the shelf. She grabs it and puts it on top of everything else in her bag.

It doesn't matter that she's on the run from some monster, she almost completely forgot what she originally came to the store for.

Brittany can't help but feel uneasy as the cashier rings up her items. She starts thinking that maybe she's over reacting and that there's a very obvious way to deal with this situation. Maybe there's an easy solution she just hasn't thought of yet. She ends up spending way more money than she had anticipated but the weight of the bags in her hand are reassuring as she makes her way to her car.

This is real. What's happening to her is real and she has to treat it as much. She can't waste time feeling like she's doing the wrong thing. Her life is at stake. _Santana's_ life is at stake.

Especially if Santana is right about the creature only following them. She can't go back to Lima and lead it to her parents, to her sister. She can only see one option at this point: keep running until she and Santana can kill this _thing_ that's following them...

Or get killed in the process.

/

She finds her flashlight in her car and tosses it into one of the plastic bags. She parks in front of the motel and makes her way up to her room. She takes the elevator and uses her key card to open the door. She pushes it open and lugs the bags onto the table in the corner.

"San, I picked up some stuff for us," Brittany says. "Like...just in case." Brittany speaks the last words quietly. She frowns slightly, looking at the mess of stuff on the table.

"San?" She turns to look at the bed, the empty bed with the stationary still on it. "San?" Brittany repeats quietly stepping towards the bathroom. The door is shut. She puts a slightly shaking hand on the doorknob and turns it. She pushes it open slowly, afraid of what might find there...

Nothing.

Brittany turns around and looks over the very small room, the very empty room.

"Santana?"

Nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** Okay, gotta say: Not a werewolf. That made me laugh.

I suppose my description of the creature isn't that great and since it's all _otherworldly_, you must need a visual. I'll try to upload a rough sketch to my Tumblr, but I haven't done in actual drawing in years. Maybe I'll make my friend draw it for me, he's way better. Anyway, there's a link to my tumblr on my profile, or you know, it's just my pen name.

Also, thanks for the reviews, for real, I love them. I'm really surprised that people actually like this. It's super mega awesome foxy fun to write, but I don't actually feel like it's that good.

Let's see what happens next!

* * *

><p>She doesn't know how long she's been sitting. She just kinda collapsed on the bed when she realized that Santana was gone. A million thoughts race through her head and she isn't sure which one to grab and sort through first. She's never felt more confused in her entire life.<p>

Nothing that she's ever _done_ in her entire life could have prepared her for what's happening.

Brittany swallows hard and forces herself up. She knows all that matters now is finding Santana –wherever she may be.

She sits at the small table and dumps all of the items she bought onto it. She sets the peanut butter, the bottles of water and the Starbucks in the bottom of the drawstring bag. She puts the bread, first aid kit, bottle of Advil, matches, and the batteries in next. She stares at the plastic wrap in which the knife is encased. She twists it, bites at it, stabs it with the hotels pen. It takes a good ten minutes for her to get it out completely. Her hands are shaking –she isn't sure if it's from frustration or fear– when she grips the pocket knife in her hand, blade exposed.

It looks angry to Brittany, the blade.

She pushes it back into place, tucked inside the handle and the motion makes Brittany's heart race.

She stands up and pushes the knife into her front jean pocket. She moves around the room, checking that she has everything. She finds Santana's wallet tucked between the bed and the bedside table. She pauses, looking down at it lying on the floor, wedged there, forgotten. She thinks of Santana, leaving without it.

She full on panics, though, when she enters the bathroom and finds Santana's shoes behind the door.

/

Her heart is beating in her throat, making it impossible to swallow.

She's driving around the small town they had settled in the night before. It doesn't feel so small now, though, now that Santana is lost in it. Brittany's now starting to realize just how big the entire world is. Santana could be anywhere. She might not even be in Ohio anymore. The thought makes her chest tighten in the most painful way.

She doesn't know what she will do if Santana is lost forever. Like, what if she can never find her? What if Santana just remains gone forever and it's because Brittany left her alone. She knows she shouldn't have. Santana was acting weird and Brittany left because she felt restless.

When Brittany realizes that maybe the creature has Santana, came and took her away, she almost veers off the road. Her hands jerk and clench hard at the steering wheel.

She knows that couldn't be it, though. She knows that it couldn't have been the creature that's tracking them. If it had been, there would have been signs of a struggle. Brittany knows that. She knows people would be talking about it and asking questions. She knows someone would have seen, Santana would have fought.

She thinks about it for a long time, keeping her eyes open for anything that will give her a hint about where Santana is.

If the creature-thing didn't steal Santana from her, that means Santana left her.

It's such a surprisingly painful thought that Brittany has to let one hand off the steering wheel and use it to wipe her eyes.

/

She drives without direction. She's aimless. She's lost. So lost. She drives for a long time. She drives until it's starting to get dark way off in the distance.

/

She hasn't realized she's heading south until a sign tells her so. She's starting to drive past fields, lots of fields with open space. They're empty, some have cattle in the distance or crops that she doesn't recognize, for the most part though, they're empty.

She nearly drives off the road when she sees a figure standing in the middle of one of the fields.

She can't make them out exactly. The light of the sky is starting to sink behind trees, behind the invisible horizon. Brittany pulls onto the shoulder of the road and watches the figure closely. It's standing still, perfectly still, just...standing.

Brittany shivers.

She parks the car and makes her way into the field.

The pocket knife weighs heavy.

It's oddly comforting.

/

"Santana?" She asks quietly as she approaches.

It is Santana. Brittany can tell it's her before she's even reached her. She just knows. She knows Santana's silhouette. She knows how lucky she is to have found her. Relief, warm and soothing floods over her as soon as it clicks in her mind that Santana is safe, Santana is here.

It's quickly replaced, though.

Brittany is hesitant as she approaches. Santana isn't holding herself the way she usually does. She looks a little hunched over, a little smaller. As Brittany gets closer she can see that Santana's skin looks a little dull, like she hasn't seen the sun for days. Her hair hangs limp on her head, like all of the body and volume has been drained out of it. It's such a dramatic change in appearance. The night is oddly quiet, eerily quiet. It's been so crazy and this moment seems so surreal that Brittany feels scared.

"Santana?" She repeats, voice softer. She's really afraid of this Santana.

No response. Santana stands, looking up at the stars, her back to Brittany.

"What are you doing out here? We need to go," Brittany says slowly. She keeps some space between herself and Santana as she circles around her.

She stands in front of Santana, who does not take her eyes off of the sky. She feels her heart pounding. It's starting to get darker now. She can feel her eyes adjusting.

She feels very exposed in the open field. Like Bambi's mom. She swallows hard.

"Santana please, why are you here?" Her voice cracks halfway through the sentence. She can't help it, she's terrified. She can feel her blood pumping through her, in time with her packing heart beat. Santana's face looks hollow, like she isn't even there. As her eyes rake over Santana's body she can see her left hand clenched tight. She can see small silvery veins on her hand, they seem to almost glow in the waning light.

"San," Brittany says again.

"I don't know, Britt," Santana says. Her voice is weak and sounds strangled, like it had to fight to get out of her throat. "I don't remember."

"Oh San," she says and moves forward to pull her close.

Santana stops her though, holding up her right hand and stumbling back. "Please, don't, I don't think I can," she says. Her words are jumbled and Brittany feels like she's talking more to herself than to anyone.

"Santana, what's wrong?" Brittany asks. Her hands are shaking. She moves slowly towards Santana, hands out, trying to be gentle. "Please talk to me." Brittany can fear the tears threatening the corners of her eyes. They feel heavy and her eyes feel so full. She doesn't blink, she doesn't want to cry.

Santana shakes her head. Then her body begins to tremble, the veins on her arm seem to glow just a little bit brighter and as the sun begins to set fully into the horizon a screech rips across the field.

Brittany feels like her legs have disappeared out from under her.

/

Santana drops to her knees.

Brittany looks down at her, immediately concerned. Then another screech fills the air, makes it thick and full of terror. Brittany feels like she can't breath because it's surrounding all of her and sinking into her skin. She looks up and sees it.

The _thing_.

It's only a silhouette, the light that the world providing casting everything into an eery outline. It blurs in Brittany's vision as it moves. She does notice that it doesn't move like it had at her house. It moves a bit slower, holding one of it's clawed, arms close to it's body. It's hurt.

It's the first time Brittany's ever really looked at it. It's moving towards them, across the tall grass and looks so out of place with it's odd limping lope. She notices now it has more appendages than it should, it's more scaly than it is furry, though it does have an odd tuft of hair that clumps around it's face and hangs loose. She's reminded of a lions mane. It's mouth is too wide, she can see the way it's teeth glisten from a distance; the way it's saliva coats it's lipless mouth. It's body seems almost shell like, not that it's round but it appears to be encased in itself in an otherworldly way that Brittany can't even think to describe.

She looks down at Santana, shaking hard and then up to the ever approaching creature.

She pulls the pocket knife from her pocket and slips the blade out of it's sleeping place. It glistens in the eery light expectantly. She feels like it's waiting –but she isn't anymore.

She moves towards the creature, wanting to put as much space between it and Santana as possible.

/

She feels like her legs are gone from underneath her again. She doesn't know what she's doing. She doesn't know how to fight. She knows how to dance though and she hopes that at least will make her fast, agile.

She grips the knife hard and realizes just how little she knows about anything. It feels like a weird thought as it crosses Brittany's mind. She keeps thinking how she should know more, how much she misses the smell of her moms perfume, how she needs to keep Santana safe or buy Santana time. The last thought says so much that her hands begin to shake and the knife suddenly feels awkward in her hands.

The creature stops and Brittany thinks she's confused it.

Then it's lunging at her.

It moves so fast she isn't completely sure how she dodges it, but she does. It's messy, she throws her body to the left and falls. She uses her momentum to roll herself, she's unsure where the thing has landed or if it's poised to hit her again. She rolls onto her knees and looks up quickly. The creature hasn't caught up with her movements yet. Her hesitation gives it the time it needs and it's lunging again, clawed arms stretching impossibly long in front of it.

Brittany jumps to her feet and darts left again quickly. She doesn't feel graceful or agile. She feels terrified. Suddenly, everything is so much more real than it ever was. Suddenly, she's fighting for her life in a field in the middle of nowhere against something she never even knew existed.

It lunges to the left at an impossible angle. Instincts kick in because Brittany is bringing up the pocket knife and she can feel it sinking into flesh. The creatures wails like it hasn't before. It's less high-pitched and more deep. Brittany can feel the sound rumbling around her as she pulls the knife away and jumps back, stumbling slightly but keeping her balance.

She watches as the creature writhes slightly in place and turns it's head so far to the left it makes her stomach churn. She wants to vomit, there's too much going on and the green liquid on her hand, sliding down the knife blade smells like a warning.

It lunges again, sloppily, even Brittany with her complete lack of fighting experience can tell. She dodges easily and slashes the small blade against the lizard-like skin. It growls low again and backs off.

Brittany grips the knife tighter, it feels comfortable there now. It feels right, like she can do this, like she's capable of doing this; damaging. It feels powerful, Brittany feels powerful. She advances on the creature, holding the knife offensively at it. She strikes, lands a hit and darts to the left. It growls low and retreats in on itself.

Brittany feels high on herself, on her power. She feels confident. She moves in again and strikes out her arm and it catches against something.

She didn't see it move, she didn't see it tilt it's body into a springing position. It's on top of her before she realizes what's happening. It's hovering over her and Brittany feel it's breath on her. She panics, her heart is in her throat, her ears are ringing because of the blood rushing everywhere at once. She feels like her blood is panicking along with her.

The thing is on top of her, right there looking down at her, pinning her. She feels like it's smirking at her, if it could. Her hand is pinned against her body, the blade of the knife, up against her skin. She can't twist it without hurting herself, but she thinks it doesn't matter. The creature is twisting it's head and it's mouth is opening and it smells like everything horrible, that same scent from the first encounter.

She feels it's claws tighten on her arm and sink into the flesh there. She cries out in pain and tries to jerk away. The movement causes her skin to rip, she can feel it ripping and it makes her nauseous. She cries out again and stops her moving, realizing just how pinned to the earth she is.

She's really panicking as the creatures head tilts further still, she's sure it's neck will snap, hopes it will.

Her arms are pinned and she really thinks she's going to die now.

Then a noise, a yell that isn't her own. She stops, the creature stops. It's body is forced down on top of Brittany's own, she can feel the blade of her knife pushing hard against her, through her shirt. It lifts its heavy body off of her and Brittany reacts immediately. She pulls her arm free and when it turns it's ugly head back towards her, she sinks the blade into the softest place she can think of –it's eyes.

The thing howls in pain and rolls off of her, literally rolls like she had done before.

Brittany springs to her feet and looks around. Santana is down on her knees, the tall grass has been folded from you and the monster fighting and rolling. Brittany feels like she's standing in a crop circle. She shakes off the thought and grabs Santana, pulling her to her feet.

"We have to run," she says quickly. She glances over to the monster, it's only now beginning to pick itself up, still shaking it's head furiously from side to side. Everything about it's movements makes Brittany want to dry heave.

Santana complies and pulls herself up, using Brittany's arms as an aid. They stumble at first, trying to find a rhythm in running. Brittany is exhausted and wounded. Santana is...

Brittany isn't really sure what Santana is.

They run to her car and Brittany can hear the thing shuffling behind them.

/

_She's sitting on the edge of the bed, cradling her left arm close to her chest. It aches, it aches in this new way she's never felt before. She resists the urge to rock back and forth, something inside of her feeling like maybe that might alleviate some of the pain._

"_We need to figure this out," Brittany says and her voice is firm._

_Santana knows she's right but she can't process it right now, she can't think of anything except the horrible pain in her hand. "Yeah, we do," she nods then stands up, stretching her body. She does it out of habit but regrets it immediately when a shooting pain pulses through her, flaring from her hand._

_She can feel Brittany's eyes on her so she turns, setting her face. She shrugs. "I told you I just needed some rest." She moves towards the bathroom, she needs to be alone. She doesn't want to be in pain in front of Brittany, she doesn't understand it and can't expose that side of herself. "No worries, B. I'm going to take a shower because I feel gross."_

_Brittany speaks but Santana doesn't make out her words. The pain feels like too much, it's starting to swallow her up. She nods again and waves her hand, letting Brittany know she heard without having to vocalize it. She feels pretty sure her throat could only cry out in pain at this point._

_/_

_When she shuts the bathroom door she leans against the wall behind it and bites her bottom lip hard. She wants to cry, slide to the floor and cry but she knows Brittany could hear her. She moves to the shower and turns the water on, letting it run, turning it up as hot as it can go._

_She leans against the counter, holding her arm close to her chest and lets out a small sob. _

_It hurts so fucking much._

_She looks down at her hand. The burn had been mild and had faded after a few days. Then it had come back. At first it was just an outline of silver, Santana thought that it was maybe weird scarring and let it go. Then it started growing and spreading, like small lines of webbing, like spiders were dragging their silk up her hand, onto her wrist..._

_She realizes, staring in horror that it really is moving up her arm. It's at her wrist. It hadn't been like that last night when she collapsed in bed...it's fucking spreading._

_The thought makes her skin crawl, like there really are spiders crawling all over her, on her scalp, down her spine. She feels the panic rising in her body, like bile in her throat and tries to calm herself with deep, even breaths. It doesn't work, the breaths catch in her throat and make it hard to breath._

_The bathroom is filling with steam._

_She feels like she's suffocating, maybe she should take a shower, wash all of everything that has happened away._

_She takes off her shoes and leaves them behind the door, under the towel rack she hangs her clothes on. She steps into the too hot spray of the shower and begins to shake. She doesn't know how, but when the water hits her left arm she feels weakened beyond belief. She feels less pain, though, less fear. She sighs and squeezes a small amount of the cheap motel shampoo into her hands._

_/_

_She doesn't hear the knock, but she hears Brittany's voice over the shower. _

"_I'll be fine," Santana replies. She's surprised at how weak her voice sounds and hopes Brittany doesn't catch it._

"_I'll be right back, okay? Don't go anywhere or do anything or answer the door."_

"_Britt, I'll be fine," Santana replies. She doesn't want Brittany to worry, she thinks maybe it'll do her good to be alone for a while, try to work through what's happening._

_She barely hears Brittany say she loves her. It's just barely there, drifting over the steam. For a second Santana thinks she's made it up, she's so used to hearing those words whenever she and Brittany part from each other. She says them back, just as quietly, hoping Brittany hears her._

_/_

_She towels herself off slowly and then wraps herself up in another towel. She feels completely exhausted. The standing and moving and bathing took too much energy. She wants to sleep. She needs sleep. She can feel it tugging at the edge of her vision, she just needs to make it to the bed._

_She opens the bathroom door and collapses on the floor._

_/_

_Her body is jolting awake. She can feel it, forcing itself awake. She breaks into consciousness like she's coming up for breath in a swimming pool. She feels like it happened too fast and she just wants to sleep more._

_Something is pushing her up, though, on her feet. It's like her mind and her body aren't one unit anymore. They're two separate things. Her body is moving on it's own, doing things she isn't telling it to do. _

_She feels cold and when she glances in the mirror she can see she's naked. She must have lost her towel. She looks around the bathroom and sees her clothes. She feels a little weightless, a little drunk. She can feel something pushing her to get dressed, pushing her to move, go, leave. She doesn't understand the urges and stops, leaning against the sink. Her left arm burns and she looks down. She isn't really surprised to see the silver lines have spread up her arm, just past her wrist. She knows it's supposed to happen. She has better things to think about than those lines, she knows she needs to go, needs to leave. She has places she needs to be._

_It feels like something is pushing her forward, telling her, asking her to._

_She stands up and can barely feel the fabric of her clothes sliding against her skin as she dresses. She doesn't stop to look in the mirror, check her hair, make up, anything. She moves out of the bathroom and across the motel room._

"_Shoes," she mumbles. The carpet is rough on her feet._

_That does it for her. The thought seems to snap her awake and she looks around, feeling like she's just realized where she is, what she's doing. She stops moving and has to put a hand on the dresser to steady herself. She knows she needs to get her shoes, she needs to wait for Brittany, she needs to find her wallet. She thinks it's on the bedside table and stumbles over to it._

_Her legs feel like they aren't hers to use anymore, though. She stumbles and bumps her legs hard into the table. It shifts and she sees something falling to the floor, disappearing between the bed and table. She doesn't really care. She doesn't really care about anything anymore._

_Whenever she moves away from the door her body aches and she can't really control anything. She feels like she's blacking out for seconds at a time. She's leaning against the bedside table, then she's at the door, then she's down the steps._

_Then she's gone._


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** So excited you guys are liking this so far. It's extremely fun and easy to write. There are only one or two chapters left, so brace yourselves. Also, thanks for the reviews, I love them.

Sometimes when I write this, though, it creeps me out. Especially Santana.

Also, I posted a vague sketch of the monster on my Tumblr today. (There's a link to it on my profile, or you know, it's just my pen name on here.)

* * *

><p>They're driving away from the field, back towards where they had originally stopped.<p>

Brittany doesn't know what she's going to do now. She already checked them out of the motel. They have no where to go and it's starting to get dark. She really wishes she hadn't because now all she wants to do is curl into a warm bed and sleep everything away. Sleep off this nightmare that's been tracking them.

Santana hasn't stopped shaking and Brittany doesn't know what to do. She's starting to think it's the creature that's making her shake like that. She doesn't know why, though. She doesn't understand how it could have such an effect on Santana when it does nothing but scare the living hell out of Brittany. She glances over and sees the way Santana's left arm is resting useless on her lap, while she uses her right hand to wipe at her eyes.

Wipe away tears.

"What happened? Are you hurt? What's wrong?" The questions come out in a string of worry as Brittany glances between the road and Santana.

"You hurt it," Santana says, brushing away the tears on her face. Her voice is hoarse, like it used to get after really intense football games when they had to yell constantly.

"Yeah, I hurt it, it was gonna kill us," Brittany says glancing at Santana hard. Her head begins to ache, she realizes that she's scowling so hard at Santana's words that it's hurting her. She grips the steering wheel harder and looks at the road. Her foot pressing on the gas hard and she lets it off quickly, afraid of a speeding ticket. The thought seems ridiculous in the middle of their life and death battle. "What's the matter with you?"

Santana sobs harder and Brittany feels a small pang of guilt pinching in her chest. "I don't know," Santana says. "I don't know but you hurt it."

"Santana," Brittany says and doesn't know how to continue. She doesn't understand what Santana's meaning or why she's saying it. It makes her skin crawl, though. It makes her body shiver and the adrenalin that's still coursing through her seems to find a second wind.

"Why?" Santana sobs.

Brittany glances at her. Her left hand is clutching at nothing. Santana is slumped so far down in her chair Brittany's afraid she's going to slip into the floorboard. The sight is so pitiful that any anger she had felt disappears. "Oh, San," she says quietly. "Talk to me."

Santana doesn't respond. She cries and her body continues to shake.

Brittany sees a sign for the interstate. She doesn't want to be in this town anymore. She needs to move. She knows the thing is hurt. She knows it won't be following them as quickly as it did the first time. The ramps onto the interstate are approaching and Brittany feels the horrible weight of indecision.

"North or south?" She asks, keeping her eyes ahead. She's afraid of the answer. She knows it's going to confirm what she's already feeling.

"South," Santana replies in an out of place firm tone.

Brittany feels her chest tighten in anxiety. She sighs heavily and flicks her signal on. She merges onto the interstate, heading south. She doesn't want to stay in the town. She doesn't want to go too far north and get farther away from her family. She doesn't want to head back south towards them, though, and drag that creature along with her. She's so lost in what to _do_ and caught up in the urge to _do something_ that she merges onto the interstate, heading south. It doesn't feel productive or helpful. It feels like her worst fears have been realized:

Santana isn't just hers anymore.

/

They drive in silence for a while. Brittany watches Santana as closely as she can. She hasn't moved from her slumped position, she hasn't righted herself. That worries Brittany. The shaking has stopped, it's more of a tremble now that comes and goes like the aftershocks of earthquakes. Santana eventually falls asleep and Brittany is afraid to look at her, she looks dead, body barely moving even to breath.

Brittany sighs and keeps her eyes on the road. She feels tired as the adrenalin wears off. She wants to pull the Starbucks bottle out of her bag and drink all of it, to keep her awake. She doesn't want to stop, though, she can't. She needs to put as much distance between herself and that thing as possible.

Distance between that thing and Santana.

"What are we supposed to do?" She's talking to herself, she says it so quietly she can barely hear it over the sound of her car. She isn't expecting an answer, she's learned by now that answers like the ones she needs don't just come to you, they sort of happen.

"Britt," Santana says and her body seems to jolt.

Brittany jumps with her and the car swerves slightly in the lane. She looks over at Santana. She's shivering hard and her eyes are wide with fear. She looks half asleep.

"Yeah, what is it?" Brittany uses the gentlest voice she can find.

"Britt it wants me," Santana says in half a mumble. Her words are slightly slurred but Brittany makes them out perfectly. She can hear the terror in Santana's voice. It's undiluted and infectious and seems to spread over Brittany's skin in small tingling waves.

"What?" Brittany says. She doesn't understand or maybe she does, she just doesn't know how to respond.

"It wants me, to use me. I heard it. I fucking heard it," she says, her right arm coming up to the side of her head and pressing hard.

Brittany feels her heart beating quickly, her pulse racing. It's scary, seeing Santana this weak, this torn up. A slightly comical image of the monster leading Santana away from Brittany makes her heart clench hard. "It can't have you," she says without really meaning to. She feels the words coursing through her, like her blood, fueling her into wakefulness and action. "It can't." Her hands grip the steering wheel tightly.

Santana shudders in the seat and shakes her head. Her body slumps slightly and Brittany wants to pull over, just to make sure she hasn't died. It doesn't even look like she's breathing. She does move, though. She uses her right hand on the door to pull herself up into a better sitting position. She wedges one of her legs underneath her to prop herself up further.

Once she's settled she rests her right hand on Brittany's leg. "You're hurt," she whispers and Brittany can feel eyes on her arm.

It's then that the pain seems to hit Brittany. Every beat of her heart seems to make the pain in her shoulder beat as well. It's an aching pain that Brittany hasn't really experienced before. She feels warmth on her arm and glances to see the red smeared there, that must be smeared on her car seat. She sighs at that, oddly resigned to the fact that her car will take damage.

"Pull over," Santana says quietly. Her voice isn't as hoarse, it almost sounds normal. Her whisper is sweet and reminiscent of nights they used to spend tucked into each other.

"No, we gotta get you away from it," Brittany says.

"Pull over," Santana repeats again. "I'm fine, Brittany, please pull over."

Brittany looks away from the road and finds Santana's dark eyes. They're big and full of worry, Brittany knows the worry is for her.

"We've been driving for a long time, it's not going to catch up any time soon," Santana reasons.

Brittany sighs and pulls off at the next exit, finding a rest area to park at.

/

Santana is sitting up completely straight, looking at Brittany's hurt arm like it's a riddle. Brittany keeps her eyes on Santana's left arm. The silvery, sharp lines are sliding up towards Santana's elbow. They've spread since they left the creature in the field.

Brittany knows that isn't good. She knows that means something really bad. When Santana touches her arm gently she hisses in pain and forgets about everything except where Santana's touching.

"I think you need stitches," Santana says quietly.

Brittany shakes her head. "No, it's like a cut," she says and her voice quavers.

"A cut that needs stitches. It's a little deep, but it's stopped bleeding," Santana says, her head tilted to the side slightly. She pauses for a moment and lifts her right hand to Brittany's arm. "I'm going to try and take your bag off, but you've gotta help me, okay?"

Brittany nods. She feels exhausted. She needs to worry about Santana, keep Santana away from _it_. Her entire body feels so heavy, though. She's so tired and aching. She lifts off her body away from the seat she hadn't realized she'd been leaning against. It takes so much effort that Brittany feels like she's going to pass out on the spot, just from tiredness.

Santana's movements are awkward, her right hand shakes as it moves. Brittany can't tell if it's from lack of use or nerves. They manage to get the bag off without causing Brittany too much extra pain.

Brittany leans back on the chair and watches as Santana opens the bag with one hand. She sighs and closes her eyes. She knows she'll fall asleep if she doesn't open them or talk or something. "Are you okay?" She asks. She's surprised how quiet her voice is, how it slurs with sleep.

"I'm okay," Santana replies. There's a chuckle in her voice and it makes Brittany half smile.

"I'm scared for you," Brittany mumbles. She can feel sleep tugging at her and she shakes her head and opens her eyes.

Santana's movements stop for a beat before continuing. She pulls out the first aid box and sewing kit. She stares at it, questioning.

"I dunno," Brittany says, adjusting her body and wincing at the ache that spreads through her muscles. "I read about it once in a book when I was little. How they went on an adventure and took a sewing kit." She pauses. "We're not really on an adventure"

Santana doesn't say anything. Brittany watches closely as she inspects the first aid kit. She pulls out a tiny bottle of something, Brittany's too tired to read the label of it. She sets it on the console along with some other things.

"But I thought it would help, in case we're gone for a long time," Brittany says. She can feel her throat tightening in a way she knows she wants to cry. "Because I don't know when we're going home." She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. "I don't know what I'm doing, San. I bought matches. I panicked. It's stupid, I'm stupid." Brittany chokes on a sob. She hadn't felt it bubbling up her throat and the jolt of it makes her shoulder ache. She whimpers slightly. There's so much pain, so much ache.

"Oh Brittany," Santana's soft voice seems to puncture the fog that's engulfing Brittany slowly. "I'm so sorry."

Brittany shakes her head and regrets it. She hadn't realized it how badly it was hurting, now it feels like it's splitting. "I'm trying," she says and she feels the sobs trying to push their way free. She refuses to give into it, though. She refuses to be this weak. Santana needs her.

"You're not stupid, Brittany, you're so, so smart. So good." Santana says the words soothingly.

Brittany feels something cool on her arm, it doesn't sting, it fizzles. The sensation is oddly familiar and she's reminded of riding her bike, scraping her knee. She closes her eyes tight before opening them and looking at Santana dipping thread and a needle into the small bottle.

The cold liquid has seeped into Brittany's jeans and car seat. She watches and feels helpless to what's happening. She doesn't understand what Santana's doing but she doesn't have it in her to ask. She feels hot, too hot, like she has a fever. She lifts her hand to try and touch her forehead, but feels Santana's cool skin, forcing the hand back down.

"Brittany, baby," Santana says in the sweetest voice. "I really need you to stay still for me, okay? Don't move no matter how bad it hurts." There's a lacing of nervousness in her words that Brittany feels slipping into her own bloodstream. She feels her heart pick up slightly again and wanders what's about to happen. She's worried but she has no energy, nothing to give anymore.

There's a sharp prick at her arm and Brittany mumbles a lame ow. She looks over and sees Santana using her shaking left hand to thread a needle into her skin. The image makes her nauseous and she closes her eyes tight, waiting for it to be over. Waiting...

/

She feels like she's tripped on something and her body wakes up with a painful shudder. She looks around the car quickly before all the memories come rushing back to her, like water broken loose from a dam. She looks at her arm and the messy mix of blood and whatever Santana had dumped from the bottle. There's a black cloth wrapped around Brittany's arm. The cloth looks familiar, Brittany looks at Santana's shirt and how her stomach is now exposed. She can't help but smile because the idea that Santana nursed her while she was in so much pain, then ripped her shirt to use as a bandage is too sweet. It's a nice break, the feeling of kindness, in the middle of all of the fear.

Brittany leans back in her seat and looks at the world outside, the empty rest area. Her hands find the door lock button and she clicks it a few times. The doors are already locked but echoing click is reassuring. She looks around the car and sees her bag in the floorboard. She pulls it into her lap and digs through the items, not caring how much of a mess she makes of her organization. She's starving.

She pulls a single pierce of bread from the bag. She takes a bite of the bread, eats it quickly. She drinks the rest of a bottle of water and relaxes in her chair. She's so tired all of a sudden that she doesn't even have to wait for sleep.

/

Brittany wakes up to a car horn honking. She looks around, there are people. A few cars are parked in front of the visitor center in the middle of the rest area. There are children running around, adults stretching their legs. A family is at a picnic table eating lunch.

Brittany feels too confined in the car. She gets out and stretches her body the way Santana does all of the time. The feeling of her muscles moving under her skin is amazing. She stops when her arm aches if she lifts it or bends it at certain angles. She looks at Santana who is still sleeping soundly, the clock on the dashboard says it's almost one in the afternoon.

She sits back down in the car, leaving the door open, the sun is warm on her skin. "Santana," she says, gently stroking at Santana's hair.

Santana takes a longer time to wake up. She finally manages to open her eyes. They're dark underneath and Brittany frowns at that. She feels great, like she could run, there's a slight ache in everything but it's oddly reassuring, like it's keeping her grounded.

"What time izit?" Santana mumbles, pushing herself off of the car seat. She had leaned it back, using it like a bed.

Brittany doesn't miss the way she cradles her left arm close to her chest, like a child. "It's one," Brittany says. "Come on, let's eat something."

Brittany is unbelievably hungry. She fixes a peanut butter sandwich and hands it, a napkin, and an unopened bottle of water to Santana. Santana takes the items carefully and sits them in her lap. She nibbles at her sandwich and seems to take so long to swallow a bite.

Brittany's on her third Sandwich before Santana has even finished her first.

"There's chips, er, Chex Mix," Brittany says pulling them out and offering them to Santana.

She shakes her head. "I'm okay, I'm just not that hungry."

Brittany frowns and watches as Santana eats the rest of her sandwich and drinks half her bottle of water.

"I'm okay, Brittany," Santana says, screwing the cap back on and setting it in the passenger drink holder. "I feel a lot better now, I promise."

"Yeah?" Brittany tilts her head slightly and watches Santana closely. "Wanna get out in the sun for a sec?"

Santana hesitates. Brittany notices how she clenches and unclenches her left hand. "No," she says after a while. "Let's just drive away from this."

"Alrighty," Brittany says and there's a chipper tone in her voice she hadn't anticipated. She just feels _good_. She knows it's because she isn't hurting, she's slept, she's eaten, then sun is warm. "You can sleep if you want."

Santana nods and pulls the seat back up a little, it's reclined enough for her to relax, lie on her side and watch Brittany.

Brittany can't help but smile at that, it sort of feels like they're on a road trip now.

/

Brittany is driving south when the sign catches her eye. West, it says in white against green. She looks over at Santana, sleeping peacefully in the passenger seat.

So much has happened. She still isn't really sure how to process it. The rock, the burn, the veins creeping up Santana's arm. She chances a glance but Santana has her left arm tucked between her body and the console, blocking it from Brittany's vision.

What was it doing to her?

That thing.

The image of the creature is imprinted in her mind. She remembers the way it moved, like nothing she's ever seen before. The way it's legs move in her minds eye makes her shiver, it's creepy. It's beyond creepy. She knows it isn't of this world, she knows that is has something to do with that rock, that falling star that Santana just had to touch.

The smell of the creature fills her nose suddenly and she feels like it's on her, on them. It isn't, she's driving southbound on I-75, in broad day light. She somehow understands it won't come after them now. The smell is so strong in her memory, thought, it feels like it's right there. Whenever she thinks of the monster it's scent comes to the surface.

She glances at the turn off and back at Santana.

She heads west.

/

Santana wakes up after another half hour of silent driving. Brittany's been watching her gas tank, it's getting low, but not low enough to make her want to stop.

"Hey," Santana says, stretching her body slightly.

Brittany takes the stretching as a good sign. "Hey," she says, drawing out the word a little. "Glad you're up, keep me company."

"Sure," Santana says, pulling the seat up right.

Brittany sees from the corner of her eye, the way Santana looks closely at a road sign. She's silent, tangibly so.

"San?" Brittany asks, glancing at her. Santana's face has changed, it's gone a bit darker.

"Where are we going?" Her voice is odd, strangely hoarse where it wasn't moments before.

"West," Brittany says. "More room to move west."

"No, Britt, we need to go south," Santana says quietly.

"But...west," Brittany says. She doesn't have an argument, she wasn't expecting one from Santana. West makes more sense.

"No, Brittany, turn around, we need to go south," Santana says in a tone that isn't her own.

Brittany grips the steering wheel hard. She feels nervous, suddenly.

"Pull over," Santana says.

"What?" Brittany feels confused, she doesn't know what's happening, why Santana's upset suddenly.

"Pull over," Santana repeats and her tone is so firm that Brittany feels like a little kid getting yelled at in class.

She merges into the right lane and pulls over onto the shoulder.

"Why didn't you wake me and tell me?" Santana demands.

Brittany parks the car and turns to look at Santana. Her mouth is open, she doesn't know what to say, though.

"Why?" Santana demands harder.

"I...I don't know," Brittany replies.

Santana seems to realize what she's doing, she shakes herself. The darkness in her face seems to fade, disappear. "I'm sorry, Brittany," Santana says and her voice isn't as harsh, it's more Santana than...whatever it was a second ago.

"It's okay," Brittany says.

"It's not, it's just," she stops herself. "Let's just turn around and it'll be fine."

An uneasy feeling settles over Brittany's entire being, like a thin layer of dust on a bookshelf that hasn't been touched in a while. "I don't think that's a good idea, San," Brittany says quietly, fingers twisting in her lap.

Santana's face becomes angry, it twists, something flashes in her eyes that Brittany's never seen before. "Fine," she says and the word feels like a slap to the face. "Fine," she repeats. "If you won't take me south I'll go there." She moves to get out of the car, wrestling with the handle with her right hand.

Brittany reacts before thinking. She doesn't want Santana to get out of the car. The traffic is fast and the cars rushing past them shakes the interior. She doesn't want Santana to get hurt or leave her alone. She grabs her left arm.

Santana's body immediately goes limp. She shudders violently, writhes and whimpers. Brittany can tell she's in pain. Her body shakes with sobs and she seems to curl into herself against the door. As far away from Brittany as possible.

Brittany freezes – it happens so fast. She wants to reach out and touch Santana, pull her close and hug her and kiss away the tears she knows are sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she says quickly because she feels like she's just broken a piece of her mothers favorite china. She should have known better.

"Please, let's go south," Santana sobs. She moves around in the passenger seat. Just moves, squirms.

Brittany feels her stomach flip horribly because it reminds her of the_ thing_, just vaguely, in the back of her head.

"Santana, I can't, I'm sorry, I can't," she says and feels empathetic tears building against her vision. She reaches out a hand to Santana but jerks it away when Santana screams, terrified of her touch.

"Take us to the rock," she sobs.

Brittany's blood runs cold. All she can feel or hear is her heart pounding. "What?" Her voice is low when she asks.

"Take us to the rock," Santana says through her sobs. "It'll make us better." Her voice is a whine, a moan, it's pathetic, like a wounded animal.

It isn't Santana and it makes Brittany's entire body shiver.

"What rock?" She asks. She doesn't understand.

"The fucking rock," Santana nearly yells at her. Her voice is guttural, in her throat.

It all clicks. The rock, the falling star, the thing Santana touched. The thing that left the burn, the sneaking veins that are crawling up Santana's arm. Brittany looks at Santana's left arm, how the lines are now at her elbow, circling it in a pattern that would look pretty any other day, in any other situation.

Brittany has to resist the urge to throw up when Santana's body begins to rock back and forth. She rocks back and forth and chants over and over.

Take us to the rock.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** To the review slushied: I would love to say, yes, I'm that brilliant and just knew what to write, but that'd be a lie. Halfway through the third chapter I had to sit down and figure some stuff out. I did some bullet points to keep me on track. I tried to keep this a free flowing as possible.

Thank you for the awesome reviews! I love it. This story is so fun to write and I'm glad it's over. Only one more chapter after this. Anyway, it's short, but enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Santana, you have to talk to me," Brittany says for what feels like the millionth time.<p>

They've been driving west for almost an hour now. Santana hasn't said anything. When they had started moving again Santana had cried harder, sobbed so hard her entire body shuddered. Eventually she had slumped low in her chair again, curled into herself and gone silent.

"Santana please," Brittany says. She had felt angry the first few times she asked, but now, now she just wants to hear Santana's voice. Her _own_ voice, not the hoarse voice she has whenever...

Brittany isn't really sure what it is that's happening to Santana.

"Take us back," Santana mumbles, voice barely there.

"Santana, I can't," Brittany repeats, glancing over at Santana's still form whenever she dares to look away from the road. "You know I can't, baby," she says.

"Please Britt," Santana begs.

Brittany feels her resolve cracking along with her heart. It's so hard, too much to see Santana, _her_ Santana like this. She stares at the road and cars pass her on the left. She chances a look to the passengers of those vehicles, how they're talking on phones or singing to music or just driving. It's been the weirdest part of their entire venture – the fact that no one else seems to notice what's happening around her.

She wonders how many times she's passed someone going through something crazy like this.

"Anywhere but there, San," Brittany says, focusing her eyes ahead again. "I can take you anywhere but back there."

She grips the steering wheel harder as Santana's body begins to rock back and forth again.

/

"Take us back," Santana snaps, she's been silent for ten minutes. Her voice is low and in her throat. It sounds animal, almost guttural and Brittany turns to look at her, shocked and wide eyed.

Santana's body is turned back around, facing Brittany. When Brittany looks at her she jumps in surprise – the car veers to the left and someone honks angrily at her – the veins have spread. Brittany's heart beats hard in her chest, making her feel nervous and light headed. The veins, white and delicate are curving up Santana's neck, onto her face.

"I'm pulling over," Brittany says. Her voice is high pitched and sounds foreign to her ears. She checks her mirrors and merges into the farthest right hand lane, pulling onto the shoulder of the road. It's funny how quickly things change, before any of this happened Brittany had been terrified of pulling over on the interstate. Now she feels like a pro.

When the car is in park Brittany looks at Santana. She's been siting farther up in the seat, almost in a crouching position. The sight makes Brittany's hands shake, she wipes her sweaty palms on her jeans. "S-san," she stutters. "Please stop this."

Her voice breaks and Santana's face falls. "Brittany," she says and brings her left hand up to run her fingers through her hair. "I don't know what's happening."

"I don't either, San," Brittany says. She wants to reach out and pull Santana to her. She wants the comfort – craves it desperately. She remembers what happened the last time she touched Santana, how she had collapsed, her hand stills in her lap.

"I'm afraid," Santana says and reaches a hand out to Brittany. "Please forgive me."

It's everything Brittany needs and she takes it, relaxing into the feel of Santana. When Santana pulls her as close as she can over the console, Brittany melts into the embrace.

/

Santana's body doesn't feel right, though. It feels more stiff, like her skin has been hardening into stone. She doesn't think twice when Santana reaches her left hand around her back, she does the same, trying to hug her, find comfort.

It isn't until she feels Santana's hand fighting with her bag that she realizes what's happening.

"San," Brittany begins, trying to pull away but Santana's grip is tight around her back, surprisingly so. Brittany is caught off guard and tries to pull away harder. When Santana's grip doesn't relent and she can feel her hand searching through the bag on her back, she begins to panic. She pushes hard against Santana and they struggle. Brittany, pulling herself away and Santana, practically clawing her way over the console to get into the bag. Brittany remains silent, she's too confused, feels too confined in the small space of her car. She doesn't know what Santana's looking for in the bag.

The knife. It suddenly feels very heavy in Brittany's pocket and she's oddly reminded of a scene from a _Harry Potter_ film.

Santana hisses, just like the creature does and Brittany yells incoherently at her. The noise terrifies her and reminds her of all the times she's had to fight it. Her shoulder burns when Santana hits it hard with her own. Brittany can feel the panic building and does the first thing she can think to do she slams her body back against the car seat.

Santana yowls and pulls away from Brittany, cradling her left arm against her chest.

"Santana," Brittany says loudly.

Santana's head jerks up and their eyes lock. Brittany gasps, the veins have spread, they're circling around Santana's eyes. They're _in_ her eyes, sinking into the warm brown that Brittany associates with all things good and warm and _Santana._

"No," she says because it's the only word she has left in her mind. It's all she feels. No, it can't have Santana.

Santana bares her teeth like an animal and turns her body away from Brittany, right hand fighting awkwardly to open the door.

Brittany reacts instantly and presses the automatic door lock. Santana fights against the door before turning back to Brittany. Her face is contorted, she looks different, sharper, scarier. Brittany doesn't even think – she pulls her arm back and punches Santana cross the face.

/

Brittany pulls her hand back and shakes it, trying to rid it of some of the pain. She keeps her eyes on Santana who was completely caught off guard. It oddly seems to work; the veins seep out of Santana's eyes (though they stay on her face) and Santana collapses in on herself. She brings her legs up and is huddled into a ball, sobbing hysterically.

"I'm s-sorry," she gasps out between sobs. Her voice sounds like Santana's voice, her sad voice, her real voice.

"Santana," Brittany says and her voice is shaking as hard as her hands.

"Don't t-touch me," Santana sobs. "Please d-don't touch me, Britt."

Brittany's heart clenches so hard in her chest that she has to wipe at her own eyes. She watches the way Santana holds herself. She thinks of the way those veins are slowly taking over her body, molding her into something else, something the creature wants.

She leans her forehead against the steering wheel and breaths deep, trying to calm herself.

Santana is still sobbing when she pulls back onto the interstate, heading west.

/

As soon as Santana falls asleep (Brittany makes her recline the chair and at least lay down properly) Brittany pulls off to get more gas. She pays for it on her card at the pump which she usually hates doing, but she doesn't want to leave Santana alone. She's afraid she'll run away or turn back into that creature-Santana that's trying to take over.

Santana doesn't stir, though. She lays on the reclined chair and breaths hard, sometimes trembling.

/

"_Britt Britt?" Santana's voice is soft and sounds so far away – or muffled, like someone has thrown a towel over Brittany's head._

"_Yeah?" Brittany chokes out. Her throat feels like it's on fire. It aches and makes Brittany's entire body feel weak. She forces her eyes open to look at Santana. "Hey," she breaths out in a sigh of happy relief. Being sick sucks, but being sick without Santana being there to take care of her is the worst._

"_Hey you," Santana says moving into the room and gently closing the door behind her. She keeps one hand behind her back as she moves to Brittany's bed and sits on the edge. "I brought you something." _

_Brittany smiles and tries to pull herself up into a sitting position. Santana's hand is firm on her shoulder, easing her gently back down. "No, it's fine, you rest. You're sick."_

_Brittany groans and relaxes into the pillow. The tiny amount of effort she had used to pull herself up feels like all she had. This is the most sick she's been since third grade when she caught the flu. Santana being in the room makes everything better though: her throat aches less, her fever feels weak, but her energy level? She's just too exhausted. Nothing can fix that. "You're gonna get sick," Brittany croaks out._

_Santana rolls her eyes dramatically. "Please, I haven't had strep since they took my tonsils out. I'm like immune," Santana says to assuage Brittany's fears. "Now," her voice turns almost businesslike. "It isn't much, but I figured, you know, you're sick. I could do something for you."_

_Santana's voice trails off and her eyes dart down to Brittany's blanket, like she's nervous or unsure of herself. Brittany wants to smile but it's too much work, all she manages is a half smile that she's afraid comes off as a smirk. "You bringing me anything is the best," she says._

_Santana hands Brittany the object behind her back. It's a movie – no, it's the _best_ movie. The one movie that Brittany loves more than any others but doesn't own. _Mean Girls._ "San," she says, drawing the vowel out. "You're the best, this is the best."_

"_I figured we could watch it, if you're up for it. It's yours to keep, you watch it more than I do, anyway," Santana says the words quickly, as if she's worried that Brittany's going to interrupt her and tell her it's a dumb thing to give someone._

"_Wait, this is your copy?" Brittany holds it in her hands, there's no plastic wrap –the top left corner of the case has a few bite makes in it from Lord Tubbington. "I can't take your copy, what if you want to watch it?" _

"_I'll just have to come watch it with you, won't I?" Santana's smile is soft and real and warm._

_Brittany holds the movie gently, like it's treasure. "Thank you," she whispers, she hadn't meant to but her throat feels just as tired as her body does._

_Santana nods her head to the side and shrugs as if to say it's nothing, but really to Brittany it says so much. "Wanna watch it?"_

_Brittany nods._

_/_

_They're halfway through the movie. Brittany is leaning against Santana. It's not the normal way she leans against her, gently and with grace and caution. She's completely relaxed into Santana, she doesn't have the energy to hold herself up, really. She's pretty sure Santana doesn't mind._

"_San," Brittany says quietly, so as not to disturb the movie._

"_Yeah," Santana replies in an equally quiet voice._

"_I'm thirsty," Brittany says. She feels bad for asking, but her throat aches so badly and she just wants something to cool off the burn._

"_You've got some water," Santana says, maneuvering awkwardly to grab the glass of ice water sitting on Brittany's bedside table._

_When Santana hands her the water Brittany holds it in her hands. It feels cool and wet. She presses it to her forehead and her body shivers at the contact. It feels so nice, though. She's on fire with a fever and lying against Santana is making her even hotter. She takes a small sip and sighs._

"_What?" Santana asks. _

"_Nothing," Brittany mumbles, settling the glass into her lap._

_Santana searches the tangle of blankets for the remote and pauses the movie. "What is it, Britt?" Her voice is patient._

"_I just want something cold for my throat," she replies. _

"_Like ice cream? Your mom keeps a thing of Cherry Garcia in the fridge, right? Want me to get you a bowl?" _

_Brittany can feel Santana's body tensing underneath her, ready to spring up and run down stairs. "Well...no," Brittany replies. _

_Santana brushes a strand of messy hair away from Brittany's face. "What do you want, then?" She asks the question with concern instead of irritation like her mother does to Brittany when she doesn't say what she wants straight forward._

"_Honestly?" Brittany asks it with a pout that Santana can't see._

"_Honestly," Santana replies. _

_Brittany can feel her chest rumble slightly with a chuckle. "A milkshake. It just sounds so good and cool."_

"_A milkshake?" Santana asks, this time laughing out loud._

"_Yeah, I guess," Brittany replies, not finding the joke._

"_Okay," Santana says. She begins to move, gently sliding out from under Brittany and helping her to prop up against her headboard with enough pillows to use as support._

"_What do you mean okay?" Brittany asks, watching as Santana pulls on her shoes and grabs her keys from Brittany's bedside table._

"_Okay," Santana repeats. She leans down and kisses Brittany's forehead before disappearing out the door._

_/_

The memory is all Brittany can think of as she's driving.

It keeps replaying in her head. Santana returning with a chocolate milkshake covered in whipped cream with three cherries on top.

The memory feels so light and clear in her mind. In the car everything feels different though. She feels gross from the traveling, her lack of having showered for a while now, the dried sweat on her skin makes her itch and she knows her hair is probably tangled. She sighs and looks over to the sleeping form of Santana.

Santana is probably in worse shape than she is.

She turns back to the road. West. They're heading west. Brittany knows that can't last forever, though. She knows eventually she'll run out of places to hide Santana. She knows she won't be able to watch Santana all of the time. What happens when the veins _don't _leave Santana's eyes?

Brittany shakes her head and blinks a few times. There has to be a solution she isn't seeing, something she's missing. Santana told her the rock would make things better. She has no idea what the rock will do but if it's what the creature or the thing inside of Santana wants, she can't go to it.

The thing inside Santana.

The thought scares something deep in Brittany. It squirms and makes her heart beat so hard and slow she's afraid she's stopped breathing or she's having a heart attack –or both. She can't lose Santana. Santana is everything. She glances over at the slim form of her, sleeping in the chair.

She thinks back to the milkshake Santana brought her when she was sick.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for reading. I was a bit sad when I finished this, it's so easy and fun to write. I've loved your reviews and feedback and the like. I love writing Brittana into crazy actiony/mystery/crazy situations. Got another one in the works now, you'll just have to wait on it a while.

For any unanswered questions find me on tumblr at Penelope Cross.

Hopefully I'll see you at my next fic. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>It's that same drunk feeling from before.<p>

Santana wakes up lying in Brittany's car. She feels groggy and like her head is full of liquid. She sits up slowly and feels like it's going to tip off of her neck and roll comically down the slope of her arm. Her head is really the only thing she feels. Everything else seems so weightless.

She looks out the passenger window. It's night now, dark out. The car is parked on the side of a back road and the only thing you can see are fields. They go on forever. She turns to ask Brittany (if she can get the words past her cotton mouth) why they're here.

Brittany isn't in the car with her.

She's seized by a sudden panic and then a wave of relief slips over her, like water when you first step into the shower –a new sensation. She feels almost...euphoric for a brief moment. Brittany isn't there, she can get out of the car, leave, head back towards the rock.

Her legs seem to want to move on their own. She's pushing open the door and on her feet, moving before she even registers that her shoes are in the car and that she left the door open. The ground runs from cool rough to cool smooth as she moves from pavement to grass. She looks around and the movement makes her feel dizzy and like she should keep spinning.

Everything is disorienting.

Santana doubles over and closes her eyes tight, bracing herself on her knees. She tries to breath evenly but she can't seem to find the rhythm. She stays bent for what feels like centuries.

When she rights herself she can see clearer, better. The realization of Brittany not being in the car with her makes her chest seize. She needs to find Brittany, she needs Brittany. She knows she can't survive this without her.

"Britt," she says turning and then there –the light catches her eye. Just a little way into the field the car is park by, a fire glowing orange and bending in the light breeze.

Two things happen:

Santana takes a step forward because she somehow knows it's Brittany. She knows the fire is warm and her heart seems to flutter at the idea.

Her head seems to burst with a sudden pain. She doubles over again and dry heaves. The pain behind her eyes making her nauseous.

She rights herself again and takes a step towards the fire. It hurts, each step.

But she can see a figure standing beside it.

She knows it's Brittany.

/

Her feet are stumbling. She moves with as much dignity and grace as a bull in a china shop. Santana feels like her legs are trying to pull her away. She ignores the ache she feels as she forces herself towards the fire, it's warmth and glow and inevitably Brittany. It's almost like agony as she walks slowly towards the flickering light. She's been walking for a long time and she's only half way there. She's out of breath and the dizzy feeling has return –intensified.

The figure becomes a silhouette and the silhouette becomes Brittany. Her face looks firm, her mouth one barely visible line, her lips almost gone. Santana opens her mouth to speak but she can't really find the words. She huffs angrily, the sound rumbling in her chest feels foreign and terrifying.

She's exhausted and frustrated and doesn't know why she's stumbling like a drunkard. Her eyes go blurry and she almost screams. She's afraid she's going blind. She blinks hard a few times and feels hot tears sliding down hot skin and her vision clears.

"Britt," she croaks out. "Fire." Sentences feel like too much work. She tries to make it a question, tries to raise the tone on the end of her words to accentuate her confusion, but she can't. She growls again in frustration but it catches in her chest, making her breath hitch and her body shake with a sob.

"I bought matches," Brittany offers, face still firm.

Santana shakes her head. "Britt," she says again, her voice is a whimper. She feels completely lost inside of herself, all she wants is for Brittany to piece her back together right.

"Call it," Brittany says.

Santana shakes her head and moves closer to the fire –to Brittany. Her insides seem to be screaming at her to retreat, go, run, head south. The rock, the rock, the rock. "I don't..." Her words are cut off as pain sweeps through her. She feels it creeping up her arm, up her scalp and seeping into the corners of her vision. She sees white lines crisscrossing over her eyesight and Brittany, just behind them, like she's locked inside a prison cell.

It feels too much like an end.

/

Brittany tries to keep her resolve firm, strong, unrelenting.

It's a pretty fucking feat when the girl she loves comes stumbling into the field, sobbing like someone's just died. Then Santana collapses to her feet, head thrown back, looking at the stars. Brittany shivers, she watches the white lines crawl back into Santana's eyes. The lines don't stop like they did at the corners of her eyes, they continue, wrap up her dark pupils and turn them white.

"San," she says quietly, feeling her resolve break when her voice cracks on the word.

Santana's body shudders once before falling, her knees brace her and she remains staring at the stars. Brittany moves around the fire and kneels beside her. Santana doesn't move or react to Brittany's presence.

"Santana," Brittany whispers waving her hand back and forth in front of Santana's face.

She nearly screams when Santana's hand shoots up and grabs her wrist, squeezing hard. Her head turns slightly until white pupils meet with blue. Santana's mouth grins wickedly, showing off white teeth. Brittany pulls her wrist hard but Santana's grip is solid. She rises to her feet and Brittany has to follow.

"Santana, come on baby," Brittany says, trying to pull whatever she can of her Santana back to the surface. "You're so much stronger than this thing."

Santana lifts her left hand and shakes her pointer finger back and forth slowly in front of Brittany's face, like she's scolding her.

Brittany's skin crawls because this isn't her Santana. Her Santana is gone somewhere –she hopes not for good. She pulls her wrist hard and forces her body back, Santana's grip releases. "Call it," Brittany demands. She's angry, pissed off, really. She wants to end this, now, here. She wants her Santana back. "Fucking call it you piece of sh–"

Her words are cut off –Santana's right hands comes up and slaps her hard across the face.

Brittany feels her eyes begin to tear from the shock of it. She stumbles backwards and both of her hands fly to her face, to cover her cheek. It stings and shakes the anger loose from her. "No, San," Brittany says and her voice is a whimper. She doesn't like this, she hadn't planned for this. She had planned for that creature; to fight and kill that creature.

She couldn't fight Santana.

The shell of Santana takes a few steps forward. Brittany feels the sting without seeing the slap, she's been struck again. She stumbles backwards. She knows she needs to defend herself, but she can't find it in her. "Santana," she whines, taking a step back.

Step forward, slap, stumble. Brittany missteps and falls to the ground. She's lying on her back, looking up at Santana who hovers ominously above her, smiling that same crooked grin that makes Brittany want to scream. Santana scoffs quietly.

A screech rips across the field.

Brittany feels like all of the blood drains from her face and down to her legs, they feel suddenly very heavy. She watches as Santana looks back to the stars, distracted. Brittany knows she can't fight this Santana _and_ the thing. She grits her teeth together.

"Hey, Santana," she says.

Santana turns her attention back to Brittany.

"I'm really sorry," she says. She kicks her right leg out, catching Santana in the stomach and forcing her back.

Santana doubles over and Brittany hears the air leaving her. She jumps to her feet and advances on Santana. She grabs her left hand and squeezes the cluster of lines on the palm of her hand hard. Santana screams, it's otherworldly and Brittany knows it's the creature screaming too because she can hear it echoing in the distance. She squeezes again and Santana drops to her knees. She squeezes a third time and Santana collapses onto the ground, body shivering and breathing hard.

She takes a step back and sniffs loudly. It hurts to see Santana in pain, regardless.

Inhale deep then exhales.

A low growl echoes from behind her. She turns slowly. It's there, on the other side of the fire, watching her with it's one good eye. Brittany watches as it's wide eye dances between Santana on the ground, the fire and Brittany. It feels like a scene from a really bad monster flick.

"I know I can hurt you if I hurt her," Brittany says.

The creature's eye narrow on her and she has to resist the urge to shiver.

"I know you want her, but you can't have her."

A low growl.

"Come on," she says. She moves her hand slowly, sliding it up her leg and reaching into her pocket as subtly as she can. "I figured you wouldn't like fire."

A hiss.

"Come on," she repeats. She's gripping the knife in her hand. She's ready for this.

Still, the creature doesn't move. So she waits. She watches it's good eye darting from Santana to the fire. The claws on it's hands move restlessly and it reminds Brittany of centipede legs. She shivers, because fuck, bugs are creepy.

Santana stirs and the creature growls low.

"Fuck you," Brittany says quietly. She tenses her legs, shifts one in front of her and then darts towards the creature, running full force. She slams into it, catching it by surprise and they tumble. She uses her momentum to keep her body rolling –like she had during the first fight.

She jumps to her feet quickly and sees the creature scrambling to right itself. It hisses at her and leaps forward. She twists her body in a way she didn't think she could. It hurts, but she the thing misses her. She lunges again, shoulder first, at the monster. They move farther away from the fire and Santana. That's her plan, to put as much distance between them as possible.

Brittany hears Santana groaning and the creature growls again, it sounds almost happy.

She grits her teeth and runs to the fire, she can hear the creature loping behind her. She reaches the fire first and dives to the ground, landing on her knees, she can feel the skin being scraped by the rough grass beneath her. She grabs the end of a stick half way out of the fire and lobs it at the creature.

It hits it in the chest, singeing skin and catching part of it's mane on fire. Brittany watches as it shakes it's head back and forth at sickening angles that make Brittany's stomach churn. She turns away from the creature and crawls to Santana's twitching body.

"Santana, come on," Brittany says, kneeling beside her. "Help me." She doesn't know what Santana's supposed to do, but she needs to figure something out.

Santana's eyes are open, rolling madly and completely white. The image is terrifying and Brittany stills her hands above Santana's body, afraid to touch her. Santana's hands clutch at the air, then her chest and face. Brittany turns and watches the creature mimicking Santana's movements (or is it the other way around?).

The monster roars and scrapes off the rest of the ash from it's face. It growls low again and Santana's body shudders violently. Brittany turns her gaze back to Santana and gasps when her hand reaches out and grips Brittany's ankle hard.

She looks back at the beast, at it's lipless mouth...smirking at her.

Anger, hot and burning surges through Brittany, gives her new resolve, new strength. (Maybe it's just adrenalin?) She does the first thing she can think of and reaches over Santana's body to grip her left hand hard. Squeezing on that same spot, the one weakness she's found. Santana howl's and throws her head back, arching her body and writhing.

The creature makes similar noises behind Brittany.

Something clicks in Brittany's mind. Santana can weaken the creature...if she damages Santana.

She squeezes harder this time, with both hands and the creature collapses onto the ground. Santana tries to pull her hand away but Brittany's grip is firm. She's crying and sobbing, her voice sounds normal when she speaks: "Please stop, Britt Britt, please, you're hurting me."

Brittany turns to look at Santana. Her eyes are shut tight. "Look at me, Santana," Brittany says, hands still holding firm on the cluster of silvery veins.

Santana shakes her head and Brittany can hear the creature shuffling to it's feet behind her.

"Santana open your eyes," Brittany demands, she applies some pressure to the spot and Santana cries out and tries to pull her hand away. "Open them." Her words sound like a growl and Brittany squeezes harder.

Santana's eyes snap open as her body squirms in pain. Her eyes are white, still white.

Brittany lets out a shaking breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She turns to the creature. She's fought it before, knows it's stronger than she is, even if it is weakened. She has to get an advantage.

She picks the pocket knife up off the ground, where she had laid it to squeeze Santana's hand harder. She holds it firmly in her hands and looks back at the creature, then down at Santana. Now that Brittany's released her hold on her hand Santana's body is slack and trembling.

"I'm so sorry," she whispers. She crawls over Santana's body and rests a knee on Santana's left arm, pinning it to the ground.

Santana groans and turns her head to look at Brittany. "What are you doing?" Her voice is the forced, fake Santana voice. Her eyes are narrowed.

Brittany looks up at the creature, risen to it's feet. Their eyes lock for a moment and Brittany feels like she can see it thinking, piecing together what she's about to do. It takes a leap forward and Brittany brings the pocket knife down.

She screams when it sinks into Santana's flesh, in the heart of the cluster of white.

Santana's body jerks underneath her and she wails in pain. The creature collapses to the ground and writhes.

Brittany's entire body is shaking and she pulls the knife out quick. She's crying and trembling and feels like her heart is about to burst through her chest. Santana's eyes are blinking furiously, her body spasms every few seconds. She's silent except for a few choking sounds –Brittany notes that the silver lines are snaking down her throat now, still spreading.

She stands on shaking legs and moves towards the creature. It lifts itself off of the ground and hisses at her, taking a stumbling step back. It looks comical and Brittany's reminded of Bambi trying to stand on ice. She moves closer to it and picks up another stick from the fire. She waves it at the creature. It hisses and steps back.

"I'm going to kill you," Brittany says. Her voice is trembling.

She lunges at the creature but it moves out of her way, barely dodging the slash of her knife. Brittany yells so loud. The yell comes from somewhere deep, burning her throat as it escapes. She lunges again, swiping the flames against the creature's skin. It yowls in pain and retreats further.

She decides enough is enough, it's not even fighting. It cowers from her now. She throws the stick at it and lands another hit. It hisses loudly and screeches and then Brittany is on it, throwing her body against it.

They hit the ground and roll, she can feel multiple arms working against her and the feeling makes her skin crawl. She slashes the knife and nicks an arm that backs off. She's lying on top of the thing, they're rolling stopped. She raises the knife and sinks it deep into the creatures soft throat.

It gurgles and it's head tilts almost completely upside down. Brittany screams again and she thinks she'll vomit with the effort of it. She can feel the thing wrestling against her, scratching her, hurting. She can't feel it, she can't feel anything but the knife in her hand. She pulls the knife free and lifts it high, she sinks it back into it's throat, pushing in past the hilt, twisting it.

The monster gurgles again and it's movements begin to slow.

She pulls the knife out and sinks it again, again. It's neck, it's undamaged eye, it's chest, an arm, anywhere she can reach. She feels primal, uncontrollable, powerful. She screams and sinks and shakes.

/

It's stopped moving and breathing and anything. It's dead. She's standing above it. She's coated in a layer of dirt, sweat, blood, it's and her own. It had scratched her, everywhere. She can feel small cuts on her face, big ones on her arm and sides. She's damaged.

She stands over the still form of the creature and watches it for a second. It doesn't stir. It looks even more gruesome with it's ripped open neck on display and it's six limbs splayed out at awkward angles.

So much blood.

Not just her own.

"Santana." It's just a whisper as it escapes her lips.

/

She slides to a stop beside Santana and drops to her knees, ignoring the pain and ache in her overworked body.

"Santana," she says urgently, grabbing the stilled girls shoulders and shaking. "Fuck, San I'm sorry." She feels like she's killed Santana along with the creature –she isn't moving. She should have known, she should have figured it out. "Oh god Santana please," she begs, shaking her harder. "So stupid." She bends her body over, resting her forehead on Santana's stomach and gripping her tight.

Brittany's crying so hard she shakes. It feels like all of the world has melted away because Santana is dead and she's killed her. So when a hand touches the back of her head gently, she screams and jerks away, falling back and away from Santana's body.

"Britt?" Santana asks, her voice is soft.

Brittany watches, eyes wider than they've ever been as Santana tries to push herself up with her left hand. She winces and groans loudly, rolling over and pushing herself up on her right. She cradles her left arm close to her chest. Brittany's heart pounds hard because that means it's taking her over, the thing is still inside of her. When Santana cradles her chest it means something's wrong. Her mind works quickly, trying to figure out what she needs to do.

"Fuck," she says, hands coming up to run through her hair and grip it tightly at the roots. "Fuck, I can't do this again." Her eyes dart to the creature, it isn't stirring.

"Brittany," Santana's says. Her voice is full of concern and sounds like she's about to cry.

Brittany looks up and Santana is kneeling in front of her, cradling her left arm against her body. Her eyes are warm brown, full of love. Her skin is dark and devoid of any silvery lines sneaking across her body. Her left palm is bleeding.

"San?" She asks, hesitantly.

"Brittany, it's me," she says and her voice falters on the words.

Brittany scrambles onto her knees and pulls Santana close, burying her face into her neck and sobbing. She cries so hard it hurts and Santana holds onto her so tight it hurts.

She hopes she never lets go.

/

They've been lying on the ground, by the fire for a little over and hour, staring at the stars.

"I'm sorry I stabbed you," Brittany whispers.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Santana replies.

"It wasn't you," Brittany insists, scooting herself closer to Santana. The fire is keeping them warm, she wants the contact solely reassurance. "You weren't you."

"I know," Santana says. "But you saved my life."

"But I stabbed you," Brittany says exhaling the words. She can't help but laugh softly at the idea.

"It happens," Santana says shrugging.

Brittany laughs at the words then stops. She turns her head to look at Santana who is trying to conceal her own laugh. Brittany's laugh builds inside of her chest until it's taking over her body. She laughs harder when she hears Santana laughing beside her, unable to contain it. She knows it's good they're laughing. It somehow makes everything easier.

/

"What're we gonna do with it?" Santana asks, looking at the creature. She's standing farther away from it than Brittany.

"I dunno," Brittany says. "Can we just leave it?" She turns to look at Santana.

Santana shakes her head. "I don't want anyone finding it."

/

Brittany pulls the make shift bandage tight and Santana hisses in pain. "I'm sorry," she mumbles, lifting Santana's hand gently and kissing the bandage with soft lips.

Santana runs her right hand clumsily through Brittany's hair. "Thank you."

The fire is roaring louder beside them. They're farther away from the tall flames. The creature burns easier than Brittany thought it would. She feels like the earth wants to see it leaving, so the fire eats it up quickly.

/

"We've almost eaten all of the peanut butter," Brittany says looking into the less than half empty jar.

"That's because I ate four sandwiches and you ate three," Santana says, sipping on her bottle of water.

They drove away from the creature, after they had stayed to make sure it burned thoroughly. They had parked at another rest area. Brittany had told Santana to sleep, they had reclined their chairs and stared at each other, but sleep didn't come.

Hunger did.

"I could totally eat another one," Brittany says, pushing a plastic knife around the jar.

"Eat one," Santana says shrugging.

"Ugh, if I do I'll throw up."

"Goof," Santana replies, smiling at her.

/

They're heading east. Brittany sees a sign for I-75.

"Almost home," she says to Santana.

Santana looks up at the sign, Brittany sees her smiling out of her peripherals.

"It's gonna be a bitch explaining this one," Santana says, reclining in the car seat.

Brittany nods. She'd laugh, but she knows her parents are going to be so upset, she knows they're probably super worried. She doesn't have any laughter left in her. Santana had told her they needed to laugh because everything that had happened was so big. Now it's all sinking in, making Brittany feel heavy.

"At least we're almost home," she says.

"Yeah," Santana replies, gently resting her injured hand on Brittany's leg.

Brittany grins at the familiar touch.


End file.
